


sweet sacrifice

by Areiton



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood Magic, First Kiss, Full Shift Werewolves, Getting Together, M/M, Mage Stiles Stilinski, Oblivious Derek, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:18:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: They were pack, and allies, and sometimes, Derek thought they might even be friends. They stood side by side against Deaton and Argent’s advice often enough, had saved each other enough--but Stiles didn’t treat him like he did Isaac or Allison. Even Liam and his little triad of pups and humans got more from Stiles than Derek did.And he knew a spell like this--he could use it for so many people, fix so much.So why the hell is he offering it toDerek?





	sweet sacrifice

The words echo and Derek can’t _breathe_ because what he’s saying--it’s not possible.

Derek _knows_ it’s not possible. Except Stiles is sitting across from him on his couch, almost vibrating out of his skin and offering--

Jesus, what he’s offering isn’t _possible_ but gods, he _wants_ it. He wants it so bad it takes Stiles saying, “Derek?” in a hesitant, anxious tone, to snap him out of his daze. He swallows hard.

“What’s the catch?”

Stiles shifts and shrugs. “Nothing I won’t miss,” he says and that--that is the first time since Stiles walked into his loft that the Spark has lied.

 

~*~

 

It was simple, Stiles said.

It was _dangerous_ , Deaton argued.

It was wrong, Scott maintained.

It was justice, Peter snarled.

It was, Derek knew, his choice.

His and Stiles', and everyone else was just noise.

 

~*~

 

“I need to think,” Derek says, and he _sounds_ brittle, even to himself.

Stiles nods, and shifts, stands. He pauses before he can leave completely, almost against his will and he looks back at Derek.

“You’re allowed to want this. You’re allowed to _have_ it.”

Derek stares. “I don’t know what the price is.”

Stiles shrugs and says, “It’s mine to pay, and I think it’s worth it.”

_I think you’re worth it._

He leaves before Derek can figure out what the _hell_ he’s supposed to say to that, and Derek’s glad because he’s never been good at figuring out what to say, and right now, filled with want and trepidation--

Right now he couldn’t say the right thing if it was printed on a card in front of him.

 

~*~

 

There is the simple fact that _it doesn’t make sense._

Derek’s not stupid, he _knows_ things like this don’t come without a heavy price tag, knows magic like this is dangerous and that Stiles won’t tell him the cost--it scares him.

And it doesn’t make sense.

They were pack, of course they were. Stiles was Scott’s Left Hand and emissary, the one who killed to protect the rest of them, who worked magic they couldn’t, the brilliant devious mind that saw traps and treachery and was willing to call his alpha on his shitty behavior.

Derek was Scott’s Second, his visible support in front of enemies and allies, the confidant that Scott trotted out to impress others.

They were pack, and allies, and sometimes, Derek thought they might even be friends. They stood side by side against Deaton and Argent’s advice often enough, had saved each other enough--but Stiles didn’t treat him like he did Isaac or Allison. Even Liam and his little triad of pups and humans got more from Stiles than Derek did.

And he knew a spell like this--he could use it for so many people, fix so much.

So why the hell is he offering it to Derek?

 

~*~

 

“Why me?”

Stiles stares at him and shrugs. “This was never the life you were supposed to have, Derek. And--if I can fix that? Why wouldn’t I?” He shrugs and he looks so tired it makes Derek _hurt_. “Besides. Fix this, and I fix everything else, right? Seems like the smartest stone to throw.”

Derek thinks that’s true--except.

Except.

There is a quiet house, and a lonely man who still wears a wedding ring, and a boy who grew up broken and sad.

If there is a stone to throw that could give them a do over--why on earth would Stiles use it here, on him, and not his mother?

 

~*~

 

“It's tied to the moon, Derek. So think--but remember I have to do it this month, or the window of opportunity closes.”

 

~*~

 

He runs. Deep into preserve, shifted, the ground ancient and familiar under his paws. He runs to the edge of the world, where the land meets the ocean and he follows it, the scent of the saltwater rich and luring. He trots along the coast until he finds a cove, a little curl in the rocks where he can circle and lay, nose covered by his tail and sleep.

Being a wolf is easier, and the want that burns under his skin is hotter here.

But.

He can smell Stiles, still, always and he whines. The pack bond is always thinnest to Stiles, and he worries it, until a slip of warmth crawls down the bond and he sighs, and sleeps.

 

~*~

 

The truth is--it’s tempting.

Moon and goddess, it’s tempting. It’s everything he’s wanted for so long he can’t remember wanting anything else.

He _wants_ and Stiles is offering it, steady and sure and he knows that there’s a catch, but he doesn’t know _what_ , and he doesn’t think any catch can outweigh this.

 

~*~

 

They were pack but they weren’t friends.

But somewhere along the way, Stiles became part of him. He slipped under Derek’s defenses, slid into the hurt broken places where Derek didn’t allow anyone, and he made those dirty dark secrets his own, carried them so that Derek didn’t have to carry them alone.

He was pack, and an ally and maybe not a _friend_ but Derek knew how Stiles treated people that he considered _his_ \--with a fierce loyalty, almost smothering as he cared for them, with an almost unhealthy codependency.

He loved to a point of obsession, those few people he claimed as his own, was feral in his need to protect them, and there was no line he wouldn’t cross for them.

The first time he realized that somehow, he’d become one of those people, he’d been breathless with it, because he _knew_ how far Stiles would go and he didn’t deserve that kind of loyalty, that kind of love.

But he couldn’t push it away, couldn’t push Stiles away.

They weren’t friends. But he was Stiles’ and he was pack, and maybe that was enough.

 

~*~

 

“What will happen? If--if I take this. What will happen?”

“Everything that _should_ have happened,” Stiles smiles and fear curdles in his belly because when Stiles smiles like that--he knows there is something to be afraid of.

“You’ll wake up and it’ll be right, Derek. Everything will be _right.”_

Derek stares at him and he gets it.

Oh god, he gets it.

 

~*~

 

He thinks a lot, about what he would gain.

It’s complicated, _dangerous_ magic, but--but getting back his family. Knowing that Boyd and Isaac and _Erica_ were alive. That Allison was, and Scott wasn’t a werewolf, and none of the shit they had lived through for so many years would happen, would leave those scars--they would never wake the nemeton, never lose his powers or his family, or Stiles to the nogitsune.

That alone was almost worth it.

But.

He thinks about, too, what he’ll lose.

And he wonders when the hell Stiles, this boy he fights with and beside and for, became someone he couldn’t bear to lose.

When he became so goddamn important.

Because it’s easy, this offer.

 

~*~

 

 _I can bring them back--well. No. I can take_ you _back. To before the fire, undo everything. But Der, only once and only under a Super Blue Wolf moon._

God, it should be so fucking _easy_ to make this choice. And he guesses, that in then end--it is.

 

~*~

 

Stiles is waiting for him, blood trickling down his arm and dripping into a concentric circle. It fills the air with a thick coppery scent, and a tiny chalice and drips off his long pale fingers.

There is a black blade carved with runes and the thick scent of forget me nots and wolfsbane in the air, and ash, piles and piles of ash.

Stiles is waiting, and he knows what Derek will say, has prepared the spell.

He did say that time mattered.

“Stand there,” Stiles says, and Derek looks at him again.

“What will it cost?”

Stiles hesitates and then, “My spark. It will burn out with this. And--you. You’ll forget this.”

“This?”

Stiles stares at him, and something flickers in his gaze, something that feels impossibly _big_ and important.

“Everything, Derek. Scott, me, the pack. Laura dying and Cora living and Peter--you’ll forget everything that happened before.”

He stares--

 

~*~

 

They aren’t _friends._

They’re reluctant allies at best.

And yet.

 

~*~

 

“I don’t want it,” he breathes and Stiles freezes, his eyes almost comically wide.

“What?”

Derek shoves the bowl of ash and forget-me-nots to the side and drags Stiles into his arms, and Stiles gasps, hot and startled, against his lips when Derek kisses him, a hard harsh press of lips and oh.

Oh.

“Idiot,” he breathes, and Stiles makes this broken noise against his lips, a noise Derek hates, but can’t quite resist the urge to lick from Stiles, nipping at his lip and licking over it, licking into his red wet mouth, chasing the taste of magic and honey  and Stiles sighs, this tiny pretty thing as he slumps into Derek, his hands tight on Derek’s hips, and how the hell had he  _ever_ thought he could give this up?

“Derek,” Stiles protests, breathless and Derek snarls, kissing him hard again.

“No, Stiles. No.”

“But--they--you can _save_ them.”

Derek leans his forehead into Stiles’ and sighs. “I survived that. Losing my family. And I’ll carry that my entire life. But I won’t survive losing you. And I don’t want to try.”

Stiles stares at him, his mouth wet and red, and Derek feels a burst of pride at that dazed, debauched look. That is is because of him.

“We--we won’t get a second chance at this, Der.”

Derek smiles, and it hurts, to let this go, to let _them_ go, but he thinks that it will always hurt, and it's a familiar pain, one he’s used to and knows he can carry, after all these years.

Derek breathes through the ache and kisses him again. “I don’t need another second chance--I’ve got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> (Fest Mod Note: This work was created for the 2018 Sterek Smooch Fest. Please follow the fest on [LJ](https://sterek-smooch.livejournal.com/) or [TUMBLR](https://sterek-smooch.tumblr.com/) to see the rest of the fabulous creations! Thank you!)


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